Pampered by my three brothers: the return of the neglected heiress novel Chapter 1496

Chapter 1496: Decoy base

Meanwhile...

Jonathan stayed seated in the living area of his villa, his arms resting on his legs, his head hung low. His back trembled as he wiped his eyes.

But then, low and short chuckles escaped him, growing into a wave of laughter.

"Hahaha!" he laughed and laughed, wiping his eyes again. "Ah... that hurt my stomach — pfft—!"

Another round of laughter echoed through the villa. It filled the air, adding an eerie note considering two lovers had just broken up.

Jonathan leaned back comfortably on the couch, shaking his head as a lingering chuckle escaped him.

"Ahh... I could’ve made it in the acting industry." His mouth stretched into a smirk, his voice laced with pride.

"She really is so simple," he mused, thinking of the ever-smart and reserved Cassandra. "Did she really think after everything I’ve done, I’d just let her go that easily?"

Cassandra wasn’t easy to manipulate at first. She had her own issues—big ones. Gaining her trust had taken time, but it was all worth it. Once he broke down the barrier she’d built to protect herself, everything else had come easily.

A few carefully planted comments, a convincing act—just enough for her to pick up on and relate to her own traumas without him needing to spell anything out.

Helping her carry out her plans to drive away Nina, only to steer Finn right toward her...

All of it had been part of his plan.

Everything was designed to make a young, successful, and brilliant woman like Cassandra dim her own light.

"I’ll let you go, just as you wished," he whispered, followed by an amused chuckle. "Though, I hope you don’t blame me when you realize it is I who is letting you live."

Another wave of laughter echoed in the villa—until his phone rang.

He paused, glanced at the screen, and picked it up. "What is it?" he asked sharply.

"Boss, that woman got away."

The smile vanished from Jonathan’s face. "Why am I even surprised? You useless—"

"We almost had her, boss! But then this guy showed up!"

"Who?" Jonathan frowned.

"We’re still figuring that out. We’re pulling up information now."

"Tch." Jonathan clicked his tongue, leaning back. "Did they see you?"

"We don’t think so. But... we missed a shot."

"A shot?" he repeated, his tone sharpening. "Was I not clear when I said to bring her to me alive?!"

"But boss, if we don’t try to weaken her, she’ll keep coming at us! We already tranquilized her—nothing. The bitch is still fighting, and hard. And that guy? He came out of nowhere and went wild. We accidentally shot him, but he still made it to the police station. Our men had to retreat."

Jonathan hissed through his teeth, glaring at his phone. But he didn’t dwell on it.

"Damn it," he muttered. "Send me the file. I want to know who it was."

"We just got it, boss," the man replied. "Sending it now."

DING!

Jonathan checked his phone. There was an attached file—the "evidence" he’d been waiting for. He watched the short clip. Then his breath hitched.

"That..." He clenched his teeth and went back to the call. "Hey. Leave the traces behind."

"What?"

"That’s damn Hugo Bennet!" he roared, gripping the phone tightly. "Just do it, or you’re all dead! I’ll kill you myself before you run your mouths."

He ended the call in frustration. His earlier amusement vanished, replaced by dread. Staring at the paused clip, he swallowed hard.

"It’s alright," he whispered, quickly typing a message to someone else: